This chapter has some tear potential...You've been warned!

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Returning from the beach they were met by Charles at the front door to the home.

"My master has been called away," he said simply. "Here is his reply to the King. He will be unavailable to see you off and has asked me to dismiss you." The man's words sunk like stones to the pit of Aramis' stomach. "It is about time you remove yourselves and return to Paris. It's your duty, after all." His last words were dripping with scorn.

Athos reached forward and took the envelope. "Thank you," he said. "We will leave at first light. Please extend our thanks to your master for his hospitality." The dismissal was apparent in Athos' tone.

Charles' mouth dropped open at the tone of the swordsman, then strode away from the group gathered on the threshold, muttering darkly.

"Well," said Aramis softly, his voice slightly hollow. "I guess that's it." He looked down at his nephew and lightly mussed his hair. "I guess this is farewell then."

"No!" cried the boy. "Please, don't go! Mamma! Please! Grandpere will let them stay. He must!"

"No!" snapped Annabella. Aramis looked up, eyebrows raised in surprise. "No," she said again. "I'm afraid your uncle and his friends have a duty to the King. And a Musketeer must fulfil his duty," she said more softly. Aramis searched her face, but she would not meet his gaze.

"Your mother is right," said Athos. "We must return to the King. It has been an honour to meet you. Stay safe," he said, bowing to the boy and his mother. She caught his glance and nodded, her hand placed protectively on her son. Athos nodded back, returning the promise from behind Aramis' shoulder.

"Right," said Porthos, stepping forward to muss the boy's hair with his large palm. He bowed to the lady and taking her hand, kissed it gently. She squeezed his hand back tightly and cupped his face gently.

"Take care of him," she said, tilting her head towards Aramis. "Try to keep him out of trouble."

"That's been my mission for years," he said grinning and giving her a wink. He stepped back to join Athos. Looking up at her Porthos once again was struck by the woman's beauty. And sadness. The two held back to give the brother and sister some room.

Rene stood between them, fighting to hold back his tears. Aramis dropped to his knees and placed both hands on the boy's shoulders.

"What are you doing," he asked the boy.

"Grandpere says it's bad to cry. That soldiers don't cry."

Aramis scowled. "That is a lie," he told the boy fiercely. "Not all tears are bad," he continued. "When your heart is full, the tears come. Tears of love, tears of joy, and even sometimes tears of sorrow. Never be ashamed of what is in your heart," he said, wiping the tears from the boy's cheek, his own eyes boy flung himself into the musketeer's arm and sobbed into his shoulder.

Aramis scooped the boy into his arms and whispered into his ear. "I'm so glad to have met you, mi pequeno guerrero. Will you make a promise for me?" The boy nodded his head, rubbing the tears from his eyes.

"I need you to promise me that you'll take care of your mother," he said. "Promise me you'll make some trouble for her. Just a little," he added with a wink. The boy giggled and nodded. Aramis kissed his forehead and returned the boy to the ground.

He reached into his pocket and withdrew a handkerchief and handed it to the boy. "I promise," he said, "I'll be back, and when you are older, I will teach you to shoot and how to be a musketeer." The boy took the cloth and gazed adoringly at the blue fleur-de-lis and letter "A" embroidered onto it.

Stepping forward, Annabella approached her brother, silent tears streaming down her cheeks. Aramis took her face in his hands and studied it gravely.

"What's wrong?" he asked her.

"Nothing," she replied. "Nothing. I'm just so glad to have been able to see you one more time," she said.

Aramis brushed a tear from her cheek with his thumb. "I will be back," he promised. "Now that we are reunited, I will not let the General part us so easily again," he said.

Annabella tensed at this. "You should go," she said, and placing her hand on his chest, she pushed him away, putting space between them. "Goodbye brother," she said. "Stay safe. Never forget that I love you." She kissed him on the cheek, then turned, and guided her son into the house.

"Annabella…" muttered Aramis gazing after her, his outstretched hand clenched into a fist where it had been holding her arm, his face dark and troubled.

"Aramis?" questioned Porthos, as the man turned from the house. The marksman hid his face below the brim of his hat as he moved towards the stables. He discreetly tried to brush the tears from his eyes as he checked his horse's tack.

The trio silently returned to the inn with Athos and Porthos riding slightly behind their desolate friend.

oOo